Requested Recipe

Note: I used celery instead of fennel. 

Here's the link! http://www.vetrifoundation.org/recipe/fennel-apple-raisin-salad/

CYOA

Sorry y’all – I posted mine a few weeks ago so just click here to get to it. 

See you tomorrow!

El Gallo Blanco

Half of an ear of corn coated in a much-too-generous layer of mayo and studded with rust spots of spice landed on a plastic plate in front of me. ‘Elote’: an appetizer of corn smothered in mayonnaise, cotija queso, and chili powder. The corn kernels, barely visible beneath the blanket of fat, are too yellow with none of the gloss of a suitably boiled ear of fresh corn, proving to be overcooked and chewy. The cotija queso looked suspiciously like powdered Parmesan and was completely lost in the mayo - undetectable.  It can be ordered on a stick or in a cup. It looks like a kid’s creation.

“How’s your sangria?” I asked, thinking the bite of alcohol might combat the lethargy-inducing mayonnaise.  

“Umm…I’m not a fan. I mean, it’s not Carlo Rossi, but it’s not great,” the waiter said.

El Gallo Blanco is indeed upfront and unapologetic about its mediocrity.

“I’ll try the horchata.”

Sandwiched between Kalamazoo Easy Car Mart and Ted Brooks Archery, in the perpetual parking lot that is the urban sprawl along Portage Road sits El Gallo Blanco. A cheap, unassuming, slightly kitschy restaurant providing dine in and take-out Mexican food. The faded sign with the white rooster and the reader board displaying ‘gift cards for your taco lover/sevende tarjeta de regalo’ is indicative of the type of décor to be found inside.

It’s a casual place. Cases of soda and Jarritos are stacked rather carelessly in the corner next to the entrance, some half empty. Shiny packages of Mexican candy and 99-cent bags of chicharrones line the shelf by the register. Two imposing 4-gallon jugs sit on the front counter  – one with a purple-ish watery smoothie substance and the other containing horchata. 

The waiter sloshed the beverage in a plastic cup and stuck in a paper-capped straw as he set it on the table. Their version of the spiced rice milk is not too sweet and just grainy enough with residual rice particles. Vanilla and cinnamon come through the sweetness subtly, making it a perfect accompaniment to a dish with some heat.

Though the informality of the place will inspire a 20-year-old to scrunch up their straw wrapper and animate it with a bead of water (look mom! It’s alive), El Gallo Blanco offers a wide variety of decent options with a few things done well at a truly unbeatable price.

Even if you usually default to the ‘three taco combination platter’, plan to spend more than a few minutes with the menu. Three glossy, oversized pages of ‘Apperitivos!’, ‘Bebidas!’,’Platillos!’ and ‘Combinaciones!’ are offered. Between the poor quality photos displaying indiscernible close-ups of the specialties and the multicolored fonts (to distinguish Spanish from English), the eye struggles to choose a place to start.

The menu goes beyond the typical Mexican dishes one would expect – enchiladas, tortas, tacos, tostadas and fajitas – to include a few more intriguing items. Tampiquena (Flank Steak with refried beans, rice, grilled onions, guacamole, cactus, and a chorizo/bean taco), Milanesa (Fried breaded steak and or chicken served with refried beans, white rice, cooked cactus, and your choice of tortillas), and Beef Tongue, available a la carte.

Owner Esteban Blanco, son of a Mexican immigrant and seasonal worker, uses family recipes learned from his father for many of these specialties. He offers more regional options (like nopales, and lengua) than the typical Mexican Restaurant in the Midwest to dismantle generalizations about Mexican food. No, not everything is picante.  

Chips in red plastic baskets and salsa arrive on the table with the menus – complimentary, as they should be. The red slurry consists of tomato, onion, garlic and enough heat to moisten your eyes slightly. Though the texture provides easy dipping, it’s decidedly not fresh, aside from the rare and hopeful bits of cilantro leaves that come up with every 5^th or 6^th chip. My fingers remain grease-free, telling of the lack of freshness of the matte-yellow chips. The appetizer serves its purpose as entertainment.

On a Friday evening the place is packed with Kalamazoo’s corn-fed Midwesterners - myself included. Families squeeze together in booths on the turquoise vinyl seats, a toddler cries from his highchair, and a few loners stand by the front counter awaiting their takeout. Embellished sombreros decorate the sides of the faux stucco wall splitting the restaurant into two sections, and a few unexplained trophies sit in the arch openings between tables.

The wait staff is informal but attentive. Though he seems to be responsible for all six tables on our side of the restaurant and has beads of sweat lining his forehead, our waiter checks in often. “Todo bien? Nesecita algo?” He arrives at the table balancing five plates on the length of his left arm, a sixth held in his right hand.

The enchiladas are mono-textural. The tortillas are dipped in salsa verde, filled with diced cactus – resembling green pepper, but with an oily finish and a surprisingly sour bite – and topped with sour cream and a scant sprinkle of fresh tomatoes and onions. The few times the acidity of the salsa verde could be detected it was pleasant, though the sour cactus and sour cream made for an unsettling combination. The smoothness melded the flavors but made for a thick and boring mouth feel. It lacked the crunch of fresh lettuce and the scattered bits of onion weren’t enough to make up for its absence. 

El Gallo Blanco offers serious bang for your buck. Order a variety of a la carte items for less than $2 each, or get the grande burrito ($4.99), or six flautas ($7.49). Spend less that ten dollars, leave stuffed, Styrofoam box in hand (mine weighed over a pound). Regarding price, it beats out competition like La Piñata and lacks the ‘American-ness’ of their menu (they offer buffalo wings as a starter). El Gallo Blanco isn’t the place to dine if you’re looking for a delicate fish taco topped with a fresh slaw and a lime wedge. And don’t expect a contemporary menu with sections denoting vegetarian options.

Do expect to leave full, and possibly charmed by the casual eatery. The Spanish emanating from the back kitchen, the plastic dishware, and the forthright meals offer a no-frills experience that satisfies a craving for a departure from tired American flavors.

The Omnivore's Dilemma

I’m not even sure where to start with my thoughts on Part I of The Omnivore’s Dilemma – so much mind-blowing, terrifying and just plain interesting information. Even though I’ve already read the book, I learned SO MUCH from this dense section. For the purpose of avoiding rants and passionate personal tangents, I want to focus less on the content and more on the structure of the book.

Pollan seems to be tirelessly curious. He follows each subject matter he writes about to the very end. He gives readers detailed descriptions of everything from corn sex to the processing of high fructose corn syrup. In each description, he goes far beyond the basic facts to provide background, historical context, scientific data and statistics. He answers any potential questions a reader might have before they even think to ask.

This type of informational exploration on the many factors of our industrial food systems could get boring. But Pollan intersperses the hard facts and laborious details with narratives about the people he learned from as well as personal experience. We come to a sense of who George Naylor is and what his perception of industrial corn processing is. We hear about Pollan’s own experience eating fast food with his family (I loved his son’s line “No, they taste like what they are, which is nuggets…duh”). Not only do the profiles and personal reflection within the more technical writing make the reading more enjoyable, they also provide insights into the reality of being a part of America’s industrialized food system.

Pollan also structures his writing very effectively, breaking up the dense content into digestible (pun intended) sections. The headings provided nice direction and helped me to not get lost in the complicated subject matter. And I think it was wise of him to choose one plant to focus on and follow through the entire process. This is probably one of the only ways to write about our incredibly convoluted food system and make it manageable to read. It would be incredibly difficult to choose a place to start otherwise.

I can’t resist bringing up one section, because it relates so well to a previous class discussion. ‘Putting it back together again: Processed foods’ reminded me of Jordan’s presentation on up and coming food technology. Pollan brought up the idea that with a lot of food technology, we try to move from meal-in-a-pill to the pill-in-a-meal. Though I was thinking that creating healthier more convenient food products might be one of the benefits of the ‘food printers’ we read about, I’m starting to see this in a more negative light after reading Pollan’s thoughts on the subject. I’m just not sure that increased mechanization and processing of our food can have a place in making it more nutritious. There’s no getting around the fact that fresher, whole foods contain the most amount of energy and nutrition, and the ‘fortifications’ we use are tied up in so much detrimental processing and waste they really can’t be worth the perceived benefits. 

So much to think about and still two more sections to read!

El Gallo Blanco

Half of an ear of corn coated in a much-too-generous layer of mayo and studded with rust spots of spice landed on a plastic plate in front of me. ‘Elote’: an appetizer of corn smothered in mayonnaise, cotija queso, and chili powder. The corn kernels, barely visible beneath the blanket of fat, are much too yellow with none of the gloss of a properly boiled ear of fresh corn, proving to be overcooked and chewy. The cotija queso looked suspiciously like powdered parmesan and was completely lost in the mayo - undetectable.  It can be ordered on a stick or in a cup. It looks like a kid’s creation.

“How’s your sangria?” I asked, thinking the bite of alcohol might combat the lethargy-inducing mayonnaise.  

“Umm…I’m not a fan. I mean, it’s not Carlo Rossi, but it’s not great,” the waiter said.

El Gallo Blanco is indeed upfront and unapologetic about its mediocrity.

“I’ll try the horchata.”

Sandwiched between Kalamazoo Easy Car Mart and Ted Brooks Archery, in the perpetual parking lot that is the urban sprawl along Portage Street sits El Gallo Blanco. A cheap, unassuming, slightly kitschy restaurant providing dine in and take-out Mexican food. The faded sign with the white rooster and the reader board displaying ‘gift cards for your taco lover/sevende tarjeta de regalo’ is indicative of the type of décor to be found inside the restaurant. It’s a casual place. Cases of soda and Jarritos are stacked rather carelessly in the corner next to the entrance, some cases half empty, snuffing the hope that maybe they’d received a new shipment that day. Shiny packages of Mexican candy and 99-cent bags of chicharrones line the shelf by the register. Paper bags full of tortilla chips line the inside of a glass case with heat lights resembling an industrial popcorn maker. To the right of the case, there are two 4-gallon jugs – one with a purple-ish watery smoothie substance and the other containing horchata. 

The waiter used a ladle to slosh the beverage in a plastic cup and stuck in a straw (with a bit of the paper still capping the sipping end) as he set it on the table. Their version of the spiced rice milk is not too sweet, but not quite grainy enough. The vanilla and cinnamon come through the sweetness nicely and it’s the perfect accompaniment to a dish with some heat.

Though the informality of the place will inspire a 20-year-old to scrunch up their straw wrapper and animate it with a bead of water (look mom! It’s alive), El Gallo Blanco offers a wide variety of decent options with a few things done well at a truly unbeatable price.

Even if you usually default to the ‘three taco combination platter’, plan to spend more than a few minutes with the menu. Three glossy, oversized pages of ‘Apperitivos!’, ‘Bebidas!’,’Platillos!’ and ‘Combinaciones!’ are offered. Between the poor quality photos displaying indiscernible close-ups of the specialties and the multicolored fonts (to distinguish Spanish from English), the over stimulated eye has a hard time choosing a place to start.

The menu goes beyond the typical Mexican dishes one would expect – enchiladas, tortas, tacos, tostadas and fajitas – to include a few more intriguing items. Tampiquena (Flank Steak with refried beans, rice, grilled onions, guacamole, cactus, and a chorizo/bean taco), Milanesa (Fried breaded steak and or chicken served with refried beans, white rice, cooked cactus, and your choice of tortillas), and Beef Tongue, available a la carte.

Chips in red plastic baskets and salsa arrive on the table with the menus – complimentary, as they should be. The red slurry consists of tomato, onion, garlic and enough heat to moisten your eyes slightly. Though the texture provides easy dipping, it’s decidedly not fresh, aside from the rare and hopeful bits of cilantro leaves that come up with every 5^th or 6^th chip. My fingers remain grease-free, telling of the lack of freshness of the matte-yellow chips. The appetizer serves its purpose as entertainment.

On a Friday evening the place is packed with the typical doughy Midwesterners, coming to get a departure from the weeknight casseroles. Families squeeze together in booths on the turquoise vinyl seats, a toddler cries from his highchair, and a few loners stand by the front counter awaiting their takeout.  A faux stucco wall with arches runs down the middle of the small dining area, splitting it into two sections. Embellished sombreros decorate each side, and a few unexplained trophies sit in the arch openings obstructing the view of the tables in the adjacent section.

The wait staff is informal but attentive. Though he seems to be responsible for all six tables on our side of the restaurant and has beads of sweat lining his forehead, our waiter checks in often. “Todo bien? Nesecita algo?” He arrives at the table balancing five plates on the length of his left arm, a sixth held in his right hand.

The enchiladas are mono-textural. The tortillas are dipped in salsa verde, filled with diced cactus – resembling green pepper, but with an oily finish and a surprisingly sour bite – and topped with sour cream and a scant sprinkle of fresh tomatoes and onions. The few times I detected the acidity of the salsa verde I found it pleasant, though the sour cactus and sour cream made for an unsettling combination. The smoothness melded the flavors but made for a thick and boring mouth feel. It lacked the crunch of fresh lettuce and the scattered bits of onion weren’t enough to make up for its absence. 

El Gallo Blanco offers serious bang for your buck. Order a variety of a la carte items for less than $2 each, or get the grande burrito ($4.99), or six flautas ($7.49). Spend less that ten dollars, leave stuffed, Styrofoam box in hand (mine weighed over a pound).  This isn’t the place to dine if you’re looking for a delicate fish taco topped with a fresh slaw and a lime wedge. And don’t expect a contemporary menu with sections denoting vegetarian options.

Do expect to leave full, and possibly charmed by the casual eatery. The Spanish emanating from the back kitchen, the plastic dishware, and the forthright meals offer a no-frills experience that satisfies a craving for a departure from tired American flavors.

Revolutionizing School Lunch (CYOA)

So we’ve talked a bit about the horrors of our school cafeterias; mobs of kids racing to be in the front of the line, the politics and hierarchy of the lunchroom, cigarettes in the flan…Most of us seemed to agree that our lunchroom experiences growing up left a lot to be desired.

I want to share my experience in Philadelphia last fall, working as an intern at the Vetri Foundation – a non-profit organization focused on childhood health and nutrition. In addition to sponsoring many events and programs centered on childhood food education, Philly-born, Italian chef Marc Vetri and his team have developed a revolutionary school lunch program that is currently running in 7 schools in the city. ‘Eatiquette’ (as they so cleverly named it) was designed to provide healthy, from-scratch, family style meals in the cafeteria. It is one of the most innovative strategies I’ve seen in addressing childhood health concerns, promoting healthy eating education, and working to change our institutional food system.

In preparation for our discussion read this article and my 'A Day in the Life'  piece that I wrote while I was in Philly.

In class, I’ll tell you a bit more about my experience and provide details on the inner workings of the Vetri Foundation. And we can have another lively conversation of the politics of school lunch, but in a broader sense, in terms of systemic change.

I’m excited to hear your thoughts.